


The Alchemist from Kovir

by elfgirl931



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:00:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21738733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfgirl931/pseuds/elfgirl931
Summary: Turns out there was more to Eskel's story about the young alchemist who helped him nab the katakan. This is part of her story, and how it intertwined with Eskel's and eventually Geralt's.
Relationships: Eskel (The Witcher)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	1. The Magpie and the Alchemist

**Author's Note:**

> The doppler Maide belongs to Serpentsshipmate over on Tumblr. I'd encourage you to go check her out as she is not only an immensely talented artist but an absolute sweetheart.

Maide woke to cold autumn wind whistling through a new hole in the thatched roof. She sighed – each time she patched one, it seemed that a new one opened itself up. She moved slowly through the morning, sipping some tea as she listened to the waves crashing against the cliffs outside. Agneta’s bundles of herbs twirled gently where they were tied to the rafters, and Maide wondered when she’d see her friend again. It had been some time since the alchemist had left for Kovir in search of some rare ingredient or other.

One more sip of tea and Maide opened the front door, slipping into the form of a magpie in the blink of an eye. She skimmed over the roof, noting the weak spots in the thatch and sighing internally - she’d have to go nearer than she liked to the village to gather fresh reeds. Before she had time to lament the prospect, hoofbeats startled her higher into the air and she darted into the branches of the apple tree. If she’d had hands, Maide might have been wringing them – no oneevercame up to this part of the island. The cottage was concealed behind the grove of trees and half sunk into the hill, but if anyone came up close enough there would be no hiding anymore.

All of Maide’s fears dissolved when a familiar, ugly piebald horse crested the hill. The large baskets strapped to either side of the saddle clinked loudly with potion bottles, and a giant bundle of fresh-cut reeds balanced precariously across the back of the horse. Agneta stood up in the stirrups and whistled loudly with her fingers. “It’s me!” she crowed. “Maide, come out!”

The magpie chirped irritably and flitted down to sit on the pommel of the saddle, fixing her friend with a stern look.

Agneta only laughed. “Don’t stare at me like that, you just look funny when you’re a bird!” Maide cocked her head and tapped one clawed foot against the saddle. “Oh, all right. I know you don’t want me making a lot of noise outside the house. But I’ll have you know that I made sure no one followed me! Will you just change back already so I can talk to you?”

Maide waited until they reached the front door before taking her more human form. Agneta immediately jumped down to pull her into a tight hug, which the doppler gently returned. She frowned when they broke apart. “You feel thin.”

“I’m gone for months and that’s all you can say? That I feel thin?”

“Well, you do,” Maide said calmly, pulling the reeds off of Beastie’s back and giving him a pat. “Thank you for bringing these, by the way.”

“I know you don’t like going to where they grow. I figured the roof would need it again, seeing as you don’t like to fix it.” Agneta hummed cheerfully as she shouldered the cottage door open and unloaded her baskets onto the table. “Look, I brought you something!” She opened a small velvet pouch and upended it, spilling dozens of glittering glass beads into Maide’s hands and clinking across the table. “I bought them in Lan Exeter before I got on the boat.”

Maide barely heard her, too busy letting the beads flow through her hands like water. She sighed happily and scooped them back into the bag, carrying it over to her secret stash under the floorboards and tucking it between her quartz geodes and piles of lost earrings

“Other than the roof, is everything going all right?”

“Yes,” answered Maide. She watched her friend under her lashes – Agneta really did not look well. Her cheeks looked pale and hollow, and she had dark circles under her eyes. Her clothes hung loosely on her, though her manner was as sunny as ever. “Tell me what happened in Kovir,” she said softly.

“Long story… I really don’t know where to start.”

“Tell me over breakfast then?” To Maide’s surprise, Agneta went even paler.

“Ugh, gods no!” she groaned. “I can’t eat a thing. Possibly ever again. The only thing that doesn’t have me losing my guts is pickle juice.”

“No wonder you’re all bones, then,” Maide remarked. Conversations with Agneta always went this way – she had to prise details out of her little by little, and the thread would often meander in strange directions. She’d learned to be patient over their years of friendship, and so settled down to wait.

True to form, Agneta sat down with excitement in her eyes and started off with a seemingly random detail. “I met someone exciting in Kovir.”

“Did this person help you find that crystallized stuff you were looking for?”

“No, no, not at all,” Agneta exclaimed, waving her hand at the thought. She leaned closer. “He was a witcher. Can you imagine? A real witcher! I thought they were only in stories!”

Maide flinched in spite of herself. She took a sip of her lukewarm tea and glanced toward the fireplace, suddenly feeling chilled. Agneta noticed and took both of her hands.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t you think someone like me would have a reason to be unhappy to hear about a witcher?” Maide finally answered, unable to look away from the fireplace. In her head, angry shouts faintly sounded alongside the ringing of swords and pitchforks and the crackling of torches.

“Oh, Maide, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it!” exclaimed Agneta, squeezing her friend’s hands tightly. “But he was so kind, nothing like they say in the stories. After he killed the vampire, he carried me all the way back to the guest room and he didn’t even care when I vomited on him – ”

“Sorry, he killed the what?”

“Oh yes, I was helping him to catch it, I think he called it a katakan, so after it drained a bunch of my blood I passed out but I could sort of still hear – ”

Maide pulled her hands free and stood up. “Wait, please stop. Are you all right?” She looked on either side of Agneta’s neck, and sure enough, there were two faint, healed over puncture wounds on the left side. “I think you really need to start from the beginning for once,” she said sternly.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Maide slowly pulled the story out of Agneta with the help of her journal – the journey to Kovir, the fruitless search for the rare ingredients, the unexpected approach by this witcher Eskel. Maide made no remark of the number of sketches in the journal of this mysterious man, but noted it with some interest. She put her head in her hands when Agneta told her of the fisstech, alcohol, and other drugs she’d loaded up on to trap the vampire.

“Let me make sure I understand you,” Maide said weakly. “You let a man you barely knew convince you to let a vampire drink your blood, andtake all sorts of dangerous drugs? I know you can be reckless sometimes but this is quite another thing!”

“Maide, I had a counter-potion ready to go and told him how to administer it once the attack was over. I’m fine!”

“You look like you haven’t eaten in weeks!”

Agneta had the grace to look abashed. “Well, I haven’t. The side effects of the counter-potion are pretty strong, but I’ll get over it soon. Besides, I just… I trusted Eskel! I knew he wouldn’t let me get hurt, and you know I’m usually not dumb enough to trust any man out there.”

“In any case, I’m glad you’re back here safe and sound. Vampires are nothing to play with,” Maide said, fretfully stirring at the fire.

“I know. But I had to see! I had to see if witchers really are as strong as they say in the stories, and he was! The lord of the manor said the vampire was cut to ribbons! And look!” she exclaimed, pulling a small sack out of her basket. It clinked heavily onto the table. “He gave me a handsome cut of the reward! This’ll set us up for the whole winter and beyond!”

“This is a lot of coin,” Maide admitted reluctantly. “It was honorable that he paid you for your part.”

“He didn’t just do that! He stayed for almost a week making sure I was all right – he checked in with me at the inn every single day. And when he found out I could only stand to drink pickle juice, he carried a great barrel of them all the way up the stairs for me!”

“What was he like, then?” Maide asked, curious in spite of herself.

“Strange,” Agneta said thoughtfully. “He acted as though my questions were annoying, but he kept coming back. His manner was odd, he never smiled or laughed but he started making these dry little jokes once in a while. And he didn’t talk much, but he never told me to shut up like most would after a while. He was quite the puzzle, that one. Hope I run into him again one day. I think you’d like him, Maide, I really do.”

“That remains to be seen.” The two sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, listening to the wind and the crackling fire. “Will you be staying for the winter, then?”

“Absolutely. I need rest, besides, I missed my little magpie,” Agneta said with a smile. “Shall we get started drying these reeds? I’ve just got to make sure Beastie’s settled in and I’ll be right back.”

Maide hid her own smile as her friend skipped out to the little stable behind the house. The journal lay open on the table, and she pulled it towards herself. Agneta’s excitement may have just stemmed from the novelty of meeting a fabled witcher, but judging by the number of sketches and notes about this scarred, stern looking man, she doubted this would be the last she’d be hearing of him.


	2. An Errand of Feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months after the katakan job, Eskel unexpectedly runs into Agneta again, this time in more dire circumstances.

Distant hoofbeats roused Eskel from his meditation. It sounded like a hard, fast gallop, dangerous on the uneven road he’d pitched camp next to. He stood and loosened his steel sword in its sheath, moving to put his campfire between himself and the path. The hoofbeats came closer, and his ears picked up the ragged, blown-out breath of an animal on its last legs. When it finally came into view, the horse’s sides heaved with foam and its eyes rolled wildly.

When the animal came close to the fire, it skidded to a stop and danced nervously back and forth, nostrils flaring and body shivering. The large panniers strapped to its sides clinked as though full of bottles, and the smell of herbs and blood was heavy in the air. Eskel suddenly recognized the figure swaying in the saddle – it was Agneta, the odd young alchemist who’d helped him with a few jobs in the past year. She barely kept her seat as her eyes rolled back and she slumped forward along the horse’s neck.

When he rushed forward to steady her, his hands came away slick with blood. Her shirt was torn to shreds in the back, revealing three long slashes and smaller gashes on her sides. Whatever had wounded her would have been enormous, with some sharp and ugly claws.

“Eskel,” she rasped, her head lolling forward. “Didn’t think I’d find you here.”

“What happened?” he asked, pulling her down off the horse as gently as he could.

“Griffin… needed some feathers.”

“Of course you did.” Eskel laid her down on her stomach by the fire, his mind racing. Griffin claws were usually caked with old gore and filth, so infection was a very real danger.

“My journal,” she mumbled, gesturing vaguely towards her saddlebags. “Know a potion that can keep away infection. Don’t have any brewed up….”

“I’ll take care of it. You rest.” Agneta was so quick, always one step ahead of him. Practically read his mind half the time. Eskel tied her horse next to Scorpion and lifted the saddlebags and panniers down. The corner of a familiar, battered journal poked out of one of the flaps, and he set it down next to her before getting to work.

Cutting away her shirt to clean the gashes was quick work. Agneta bit down on the strap of a saddlebag while he stitched them shut, but made no sound. Eskel forced her to stay awake while he bandaged her up, coercing the story out of her bit by bit. She’d thought collecting the feathers would be easy, that she could stay out of the griffin’s sight and scent range but close enough to the nest to collect what she wanted. The beasts usually hunted in open ground, and she thought she’d be safe enough even if it happened to catch her scent. She'd even seen the griffin from a distance, and reasoned that there was no way its wingspan could clear the trees where she was.

Things went wrong very quickly – the thing had come upon Agneta without warning, slamming into her from behind. The blow knocked the breath from her, and she was dragged several feet before being lifted into the air.

“Got it to drop me. Smashed an acid vial into its foot,” Agneta mumbled. She lifted her arm to let him tie off the bandages and sighed.

Eskel decided not to push her to explain further. She was so pale that her freckles looked like dots of ink on her skin, and she could barely keep her eyes open. “I could have warned you that griffins can tuck in their wings and run short distances,” was all that he said as he helped her lie down on her stomach again.

“You weren’t around to ask, were you?”

“Should have asked someone before you poked your nose into something that dangerous.”

“Let no one say Witchers are heartless, this one’s a regular mother hen!” Agneta scoffed. Her laugh rattled weakly in her chest and died out quickly.

Eskel grew more worried as he brewed the potion described in Agneta’s journal – she’d stayed conscious long enough to point out where the instructions were, but her answers became more and more monotone as time passed. Sweat stuck her short-cropped hair to her brow, but she shivered under the thick wool blanket. He frowned at the thick green mixture in the cookpot before him - it was bubbling, just as the journal described, but he had no idea if he’d brewed it right. Ask him to whip up any Witcher potion, he’d be fine. Outside of that, Agneta’s odd concoctions were a mystery to him.

He leafed through a few more pages of the thick journal, unable to decipher many of the scribblings. Some pages were neat and organized, detailing steps and formulae, and others were chicken scratches interspersed with intricate drawings of plants and wild creatures. He came upon a page near the back titled “Witchers” in red ink and underlined several times.

Met a Witcher today - first one ever! And he really does have cat eyes like the stories say. He wouldn’t answer me when I asked if he sees better in the dark. In fact, didn’t want to answer many of my questions at all, but I’ll get answers in the end! He calls himself Eskel and doesn’t say much of anything, but he said he heard of my alchemical skills (from who???) and needs my help catching a vampire! I think I’ll agree – it should be exciting and he’s promised me a cut of the bounty. And I want to see if I can get him to smile, even once. They say Witchers have hearts of ice but I don’t believe it.

Eskel shook his head, remembering that day well, and turned the page, to be met with a dozen sketches of slit pupiled eyes - Witcher’s eyes. He remembered that as soon as Agneta had awoken from her drug induced coma and recovered from the vampire bite, she’d plied him with questions, most of them uncomfortable. He hadn’t given specific answers, but her notes were detailed all the same. Another page turned, and he was met with more sketches, this time his own face over and over again. Different angles, different expressions. Some looking away, some considering, one even sleeping. A few of the drawings had notes beneath them – he likes shepherd’s pie, doesn’t like questions about where he lives, his favorite drink is Kaedweni Stout! Ugh! At the very bottom, she’d written in tiny letters, no smile yet. But I’ll get there.

Eskel had no time to consider what that meant - the potion had begun to smoke. He took the pot off the fire and drained some of the liquid into a vial. He lifted Agneta gently into a sitting position and she groaned, her head drooping forward. When her eyes opened, they had a glassy sheen to them - a bad sign.

“Eskel?” she mumbled. “Forgot you were here... did I tell you I fought a griffin?”

“You did,” he said, shifting her body so it rested against his shoulder. “Need you to drink this now.”

“All right.” She obediently opened her mouth and drained the vial that he propped against her lips. “Still haven’t got that one to taste good,” she said with a grimace. Instead of lying back down, she leaned her head on his shoulder and turned so that her lips grazed his scarred cheek.

“How’d you get these?” she murmured. “Always wanted to ask, but I thought it wouldn’t be a good idea.” Her eyes fluttered shut and she sighed, but didn’t move to lie back down.

Eskel held very still. Agneta knew how to get under his skin like no one he’d ever met, and he hadn’t even known her a year. The strange thing was, she didn’t even mean to do it – she was impulsive, secretive, and tended toward recklessness, but she didn’t have a mean bone in her body. She still could throw him totally off balance with an innocent question – she was too clever, and she didn’t even know it.

“If you live,” he said at last, “maybe I’ll answer.”


End file.
